Anna Wolfe: Jackson plays hot potato with records

Initially started as a day dedicated to raising awareness of keeping public records open to the public, the event turned into a full week of media raising spotlight to the public's right to know how government officials spend tax dollars.
Dustin Barnes/The Clarion-Ledger

It's a set of data the city has discussed in, at this point, countless meetings and press conferences, albeit not in detail.

But for some reason, it's been six weeks, and the city still hasn't responded.

And because records requests "have to go through the clerk's office," as multiple Public Works employees told me, but clerk employees "have to wait on Public Works to submit it to us," as several of them said, it's a game of hot potato when it comes to who's responsible.

The city currently has seven days to respond to an ethics complaint I submitted March 2.

When I requested the records on Feb. 3, it had already been five days since I initially asked both the city and state for the information.

The Public Records Act gives agencies a seven-day window to complete requests, and so often, a department will wait out the entire period whether it takes that long to complete the request or not. For this reason, I asked for it informally before submitting a request, in an attempt to circumvent that process.

When I first asked the city for the report, Mayor Tony Yarber's spokesperson, Shelia Byrd, told me repeatedly that I would need to obtain it from the Mississippi State Health Department, the agency that conducted the testing and supplied the data to the city. In turn, Liz Sharlot, the MSDH spokesperson, told me the data belonged to the city and the city was the agency that would have to release the information.

The truth in either of those statements is questionable.

“You should be able to get it from either one,” said Jeanni Atkins, executive director of the Mississippi Center for Freedom of Information. "If they’ve produced the data, you ought to be able to get it from them (the city) as well as from the state. This clearly is just giving you the runaround. It looks like neither one wants to take the responsibility to release the information.”

The Environmental Protection Agency mandates lead and copper testing of every water system in the country. In Mississippi, the state health department is the primacy agent for the EPA, meaning it is required to enforce federal guidelines and monitor the compliance of each system.

On Feb. 3, I formally asked for the report, including addresses of the residences sampled, any communication regarding the sample between the city and state — such as letters, memos or emails — and data from the resampling.

I did so through the city’s online Public Records Center, which began operating just two days before.

The city touts its new system, which allows citizens to submit requests and receive records entirely online, as a step toward increased transparency — a way to make obtaining information easier, smoother.

Immediately, a receipt for my request popped into my inbox. That was a good sign. I liked knowing I had written confirmation for what I’d just accomplished (public records requests can be exhausting).

But by Feb. 15, seven business days after the request was submitted, I hadn’t received so much as an email from the city regarding the records, what was taking so long, how much they expected it to cost, or why they couldn’t provide what I was seeking.

That day, I emailed Jackson City Clerk Kristi Moore and told her she had missed the seven-day deadline required by Mississippi statute.

The next day, I received a response through the Jackson Public Records Center which told me my request would cost $36.35 — $35.85 for one hour of research and $.50 for one copy.

Mississippi statute states that an agency can only charge for any clerical labor associated with a public records request by the hourly wage of the lowest paid employee.

When I read that my public records request amounted to one page, I knew that the city was not planning on providing me what I had asked for. Surely the sample results from 58 residences, the results from resampling and any communication between the city and state would be more than one page.

I emailed Moore again. She didn't respond.

I called the office that day to find Moore out of the office. When I expressed concern over the response I had received, the employee who answered the phone told me there must have been a typo in the email: They would not know how many pages of records my request would be until after I paid and they began compiling the information.

On Feb. 24, I brought a $20 bill, two $5’s, one $1, quarters, dimes and nickels to City Hall — because the clerk’s office only takes exact change. The employee who took my money gave me a receipt, but did not know how long it would take for them to fill the request.

By March 2, I had received no response from the city. I emailed Moore again to tell her I would be filing a complaint with the Ethics Commission and when no one responded, I did.

The next day, I approached the clerk’s office to tell them personally that they were in violation of the Public Records Act. The employee there told me the Public Works Department was waiting to “hear back from legal” — a commonly used delay tactic.

“In this case, there should be no reason why an attorney would need to look at it. It’s just data that has been gathered by a public agency, whether or not it should be released is not a legal matter,” Atkins said. “They need to give some specific reason why legal would need to look at it.”

Shortly after leaving, I received a notification from the Public Records Center that said my records request was complete. I opened it to find a document, one and a half pages, of sample results that the city attached to a press release weeks ago — one I had myself. It did not contain addresses. It did not contain any correspondence between the city and state.

The online system is undoubtedly convenient, but if the ability for the city to respond through the impersonal, automated system means that no individual must take responsibility for the quality of the responses or ensure the city is following the law, I can’t imagine the system is in keeping with the spirit of transparency or even customer service.

I returned to the clerk’s office to ask for not only a refund (they had charged me $35.85 for a document they had already given me weeks ago), but some explanation as to why they omitted several items in my request. The employee there told me I would have to file a new request, starting the seven-day window over again, because I had asked for a refund.

Instead I went to Public Works, fourth floor of the Warren Hood Building, but only found Bill Miley, utilities manager in the Water Sewer Utilities Division. After minutes of prodding, he repeated that he couldn’t help me because public records requests have to go entirely through the clerk’s office.

I returned to city hall. A new clerk employee typed on her computer, behind the glass as I explained which pieces of information were missing from the records they produced. She said she would send the information to Public Works, but I never heard back.

At no point has Moore or anyone else from the clerk’s office or Public Works contacted me directly by phone or email to resolve the issue.

In general, calls to the clerk’s office prompt not just apathy, but agitation, as employees illustrate just how seriously they take public records requests.

“The law allows me to question why there’s been a delay,” I said, with a 1990s manila-colored office phone propped between my ear and shoulder.

“You can question,” said one employee, who had told me several times that she did not have the records I have been seeking for over a month. “But here we are.”